


Until the Sun Rose

by Hiilovetrash



Category: Metal Gear, Metal Gear Solid
Genre: Canon Compliant, I need more old ocelhira and if the world wont deliver then i might as well do it myself, Love/Hate, M/M, Sappy Shit, lmao what are tags, or at least something like it, two grown men make my heart bleedTM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiilovetrash/pseuds/Hiilovetrash
Summary: The snowstorm blowing outside would have kept any sane person in the warm, cozy comfort of their home. It was too bad that Revolver Ocelot didn’t consider himself a very sane person.
Relationships: Kazuhira Miller/Ocelot, Revolver Ocelot/Master Miller, onesided Ocelot/Big Boss
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Until the Sun Rose

Nights at FOXHOUND were always cold. Be it winter or summer, the temperatures barely ever went over 10 degrees, and anyone who wasn’t under at least two layers of blankets risked catching a nasty cold. Snow hadn’t been expected for at least another week, and yet if one was to look outside the windows of the base, they’d see nothing but snow for miles on end.

The snowstorm blowing outside would have kept any sane person in the warm, cozy comfort of their home. It was too bad that Revolver Ocelot didn’t consider himself a very sane person. Nor did he care for the weather. This wasn’t to say that he was prepared for the weather, given that the only source of warmth he had were his scarf and coat. The snow had gotten too deep for his motorbike to pass through it, which was why he was currently walking towards his destination, long silver hair blowing behind him from the wind.  
This wasn’t the first time he’d dropped by unannounced, far from it. He had to admit, sneaking into the building had gotten easier over time. All he had to do was crack a few locks, sneak past some flimsy recruits, and he was in. Patrols were less frequent at this time of night, given that it was some ungodly hour after midnight.  
He made his way into one of the hallways which was almost never monitored, and dusted the snow off himself. It left the floor beneath him rather wet, but given that most of the base was already soaked from soldiers coming back inside, he didn’t worry about it too much. He had however made sure to dry off the soles of his shoes, just in case anyone decided to follow him. 

He continued walking towards his destination, which was at the end of the hallway, last door on the left. His spurs clinked slightly as he walked down the hall, pace steady. He was somewhat preparing himself to be thrown against the wall behind him the moment he unlocked the door, but was met with nothing but the silence of the room. The only noise was the slight creak of the door as he carefully pushed it open.

He came in as quietly as he could, sneaking through the room, taking in the now-familiar surroundings. It was completely empty. He closed the door behind him, at it made a slight click as it closed and locked itself again. He checked the whole room, and was left almost flabbergasted when he found it completely empty. Seems he wasn’t the only not-so-sane one.

Both the bed and the chair at the desk were empty, a small stack of paperwork abandoned on the old yet still perfectly polished desk. Seems Ocelot’s master plan had yet another problem in it. Skimming over the paperwork, he realized that the person he came to see had an off-base job with some recruits, and would be returning soon. Ocelot turned his gaze to the clock hanging on the wall to his left and fuck, Miller was to be back in about 6 minutes.  
Should he wait here and possibly get his ass kicked into the floor for sneaking in uninvited again, or should he just book it and get out whilst he still could? He wasn’t sure, but time wasn’t on his side and he had to make up his mind now. So, as any questionably sane person who had almost nothing to lose at this point would, he stood in front of the door and waited. 

6 minutes suddenly seemed like a damn eternity, and Ocelot found himself pacing back and forth through the room. His instincts kicked in when he heard the approaching footsteps in the hallway outside. He stood deadly still in front of the door and waited as he heard the person on the other side fumble with some keys. The moment the door opened, Ocelot pulled the person inside and shoved them against the wall next to him, shoving his gloved hand up to the person’s mouth, and getting the chance to look at who it was, he thanked his lucky star that it was in fact Miller and not some random soldier.  
Ocelot was almost happy to see him, but it wasn’t hard to notice that the feeling wasn’t too mutual. What made that clear, and almost painfully so was the foot that was slammed into Ocelot’s gut as he was sent stumbling backwards. That, combined with Miller basically shoving Ocelot, ended in the latter tripping over the uneven carpet and falling right on his ass.

“I can’t fucking believe it…” Miller mumbled, exasperated. Sometimes he simply had no words for the feline-coded bastard, and now was definitely one of those times. Ocelot winced slightly as he jumped back onto his feet. His already fucked bones weren’t in the mood for getting knocked down onto the floor, but he should have thought about that beforehand. And as there was no going back now, he decided it would be a good idea to speak up before Miller decided to try throwing him out the nearest window.

“Kaz, it’s be-“ He tried speaking before Miller cut him off.

“It’s been two months, which, in my opinion, is far too little. So if you could just go, it would be much appreciated.” It became very clear to Ocelot that Miller was in a mood, meaning that the poor recruits he had gone with would probably be nursing broken bones for a while. This also meant that Ocelot would have to be persuasive. 

“And that’s Miller for you.” Ocelot fought the urge to roll his eyes at that. Whatever name basis they were on changed like the damn direction of the wind. Ocelot took his time to study Miller’s posture. A few cuts here and there, and tense as ever. Still in a damn tank-top, which, Ocelot had to hand it to him, was impressive in this weather.

“Is it so wrong for old friends to want to see each other?” The way Ocelot said the word ‘friends’ made Miller’s gut twist with something, yet he wasn’t sure what exactly. He was never sure of much when it came to Ocelot. Not even his own feelings on the man.

“Friends is a little generous, don’t you think?” He said, his words holding more bark than actual bite, too tired to deal with whatever crazy bullshit Ocelot came to tell him about. Given that Ocelot was running around doing whatever Big Boss needed done nowadays, he led a much more interesting life than Miller ever considered himself leading. No matter how bitter both of their names tasted in his mouth, he still found himself caring for them sometimes. More often than he was proud to admit.

Without thinking much, Miller slipped the knife from its holder into his hand, and went to slash at Ocelot without much force or meaning. This was a common occurrence, what wasn’t so common was Ocelot seemingly freezing for a moment before grabbing Miller and throwing him across the room with a tad bit too much force.

“Careful where you’re waving that. You’ll ruin my coat.” Ocelot snapped slightly, and it took Miller a second to understand the reaction. He squinted his eyes, trying to get a proper look at the coat. It was a seemingly new one, he hadn’t seen Ocelot wear it before. And yet there were clear signs that someone had worn it before Ocelot. Something clicked in his head when he realized this was a coat Big Boss used to wear. No wonder Ocelot would panic.

His pale blue eyes were burning holes into Miller, wide and fully focused, and Miller almost felt like prey under the gaze of a predator. Miller threw the knife away carefully, and Ocelot noticeably relaxed.

After that they both stood in silence for a while, Ocelot sniffing the collar of his coat absent-mindedly, it’s scent almost relieving to him. Miller sighed, rough attitude quickly replaced by a tired look on his face. 

“So, what wonderous tale of woe have you come to serenade me with tonight?” Ocelot found it in himself to smile lightly at the words, sitting down on the desk, careful not to knock anything over. Miller would have laughed at the cat-like behavior had he been any younger. Instead, he sat down at his desk, pulling out the bottle of vodka he kept under it for times like these, and Ocelot couldn’t help the grin that plastered itself on his face as he took the bottle from Miller.

“I’m glad you asked.” 

-  
They talked for the next few hours. They talked like old friends, like there weren’t years of conflict between them. Like they weren’t the sworn enemies that everyone saw them as. And Miller, yet again, found it in himself to feel bad for Ocelot. 

As unaffected as Ocelot had seemed through the whole talk, Miller could tell that there was a layer of hurt to his voice. He spoke of all his work with such fondness, and there was a special look in his eyes whenever John, no, Big Boss, came into mention. And yet, the hurt in his voice was impossible to miss. And here he was, pitying Ocelot for the ridiculous devotion the man held for someone who never seemed to realize things on time. Always kept people waiting. His own body hurt from thinking about it.

The bottle was long forgotten, empty and on the floor by the time Ocelot stopped talking. He pulled his head slightly into the coat, sleepily sniffing at it. He let out a sigh, almost sounding sad.

“Guess I should get going then?” It was more of a question than a statement, and both men were too tired to make any good, rational decisions that wouldn’t leave them emotionally confused in the morning. So instead of chasing him out like he would have usually done, Miller grabbed the collar of Ocelot’s coat and pulled him into a lazy, tired hug. Ocelot was warm per usual, a nice contrast to Miller’s cool body temperature. 

The silver-haired bastard didn’t seem to complain, and hugged Miller back. So much for Hell Master, he silently mused. Why he was contemplating letting Ocelot spend the night, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because it was 4 in the morning, maybe because he felt bad, or maybe even because a part of him missed holding the Russian.

“30 years is a long time to love someone Adam. Your devotion will be the end of you.” Miller said, burying his face into the man’s hair, and Ocelot tensed up at the other’s use of his name. He couldn’t find it in himself to fire back with a snarky comment, instead sighing into the other’s neck. Maybe Miller had a point. Just maybe.

“Like you’re one to judge, Kaz.” He quietly muttered, closing his eyes, breathing the blonde’s scent in. He still smelled of the fresh air outside, with some hints of a cologne Ocelot had learned to link to Miller’s presence even back on Mother Base. Miller’s hold had tightened slightly on Ocelot, yet neither of them had the will to comment, let alone complain.  
Ocelot hugging back turned into something akin clinging onto dear life, as it often did. He never did know how to properly hug a person, having never given or gotten that many honest hugs. So he just kind of clung, much like a cat would.

“Now, as comfortable as this is, I think my spine would physically snap if I slept like this.” Ocelot commented light-heartedly, attempting to lighten the mood. Miller just sighed, standing up, pulling Ocelot with him. Before the Russian could figure out what was happening, he found himself getting swung over Miller’s shoulder and carried. On any normal day, he would have trashed around, complaining, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do so this time around. Instead, he just relaxed.

That seemed to be a slight mistake on his part, as not even moments later, he got thrown onto a soft surface, landing on his back with a startled yelp. The thought of ‘This is how I die’ crossed his mind, only jokingly however, as Miller plopped down next to him, face first. He turned to face Ocelot after a few moments, first checking his shades, then turning his attention to the man in front of him.

“Come here, you big, dumb cat.” Miller spoke in a light-hearted tone, and spread his arms almost invitingly. Ocelot recalled all the times they held each other during the long nights on Mother Base. Even back then their feelings for one-another were confusing, but neither of the questioned it too much. Perhaps it was better that way.

Ocelot snuggled up to Miller, something he hadn’t done in years. He forgot how much he missed this. With all his work and everything that has happened between them, he did find himself missing the times before things got completely out of hand. He missed the times on Mother Base when they’d just sit under the stars and wait. They didn’t know what they were waiting for, but they found each other’s presence comforting and it was enough for them. Those memories seem so fuzzy nowadays, at least to Ocelot.

To say they were peacefully cuddling would be somewhat of an understatement, as it was more desperate holding than cuddling. It had been so long, too long. Neither wanted to let go. It was a weird feeling, being tender with one another again. It felt comforting in a way nothing else had.

Soon enough they fell asleep like that, clinging onto something they knew they couldn’t keep. Both knew too well that this, this peace, wasn’t meant to last. It never did. By morning they’d be enemies again. Months would pass, maybe even years, before they’d both swallow their pride enough to hold each other again. By morning, this would have all seemed like a dream.

Luckily for them, there was still plenty of time until the sun rose.


End file.
